


Sneaking Around

by orphan_account



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Bruce Wayne Being Bruce Wayne, Hurt No Comfort, Secret Identity, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:40:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27925405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Dick thinks that he's going to help Bruce by finding out something about Red Hood.He does, but not in the way he expected.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 63





	Sneaking Around

**Author's Note:**

> So, uh, this is my first fanfic. Be kind! But tell me if I biffed any tagging or something important, please.

Dick came back to awareness slowly. He was suspended by his arms - fucking painful, thanks - and his head was throbbing. He tried to remember what happened. He’d come in from Bludhaven, not that Bruce had  _ asked _ for his help, he never fucking asked, but Dick was curious about the Red Hood. It was rare that Bruce had  _ nothing _ on a criminal, and one that was rising so quickly.

He thought he could stand if he wanted, barely, but did he want to stand? If anyone was there, they’d know he was awake.

He couldn’t hear anything. Was he alone? If so, he’d be able to slip his bindings and be gone before anything unpleasant could happen. He shifted, letting out a pained groan, before going limp.

Nothing.

He fluttered his eyes, as if he was just coming back to awareness. It was dark, too dark to see much with a quick glance. There were shapes, furniture of some kind, but no people.

Still no sound.

Dick came in from Bludhaven because he thought he’d be able to find something Bruce had missed. Nightwing has his own way of stalking and lurking, different from B but no less effective.

He groaned again and shifted, hearing chains rattle. How classic.

Oh fuck, he hadn’t actually told Bruce he was visiting Gotham. This would be a great time for him to demonstrate some of that omniscient knowledge and show up. Or give into that overbearing, paranoid, parental need to know where Dick was  _ at all times _ . Sure, he’d literally left the city to avoid it, but clearly it had some upsides.

Nothing more to be gained by hanging painfully. He snapped his eyes open and stood up. No one near him, no one he could make out. Perfect time to escape.

He tipped his head, to better see his restraints. 

“Don’t bother.” The voice was slightly artificial sounding. Red Hood? Now Dick remembered. He’d run into him on a rooftop. He wanted to talk, get intel, but Hood had no interest. Dick remembered Hood coming at him and then...nothing. Was there a gas? Did he get knocked on the head? That would explain the throbbing.

“Hey there,” Dick flashed a big smile to the person sprawling on the couch, “I think there’s been some kind of misunderstanding.” Distract with dialogue, buy some time, gain that intel.

“I know who you are.”

“Well, that’s awkward, because you’ve got the advantage -”

“Richard Grayson.” Dick froze. Was his mask still on? It was weird, but villains rarely cared about taking it off, and there was special glue, and - he blinked. Yeah, it was still on. Hood could have taken it off, ID’d him, and put it back on him? For some reason.

“Well, that’s interesting. You’ve  _ still _ got me at a disadvantage, so I’m just going to have to be blunt and ask for your name.” No answer. Dick resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “If you’re not going to chat with me, I’m a little confused about why you kidnapped me. I’m usually very friendly, maybe we could have swapped numbers, had some coffee together, then gotten to know each other, and we could have skipped midnight kidnappings.” Silence. “Ask anyone in the hero community, I’m great at texting. Maybe too great? Is that even a problem? Sometimes I’m told I can be a little too much.” 

And he couldn’t even tell where Hood was  _ looking _ . Dick’s head hurt too much for this shit. He regretted wanting to impress Bruce by finding out about Red Hood. Wanting the man’s approval, still, never led him anywhere good, especially when he couldn’t even admit it.

Red Hood slowly stirred and stood. He walked over to Dick, and reached out a hand to his face. Dick flinched back, but Hood just stroked his cheek. “The Golden Boy. The first Robin. The one who did everything right.”

Pushing aside his uneasiness, Dick laughed. “For a moment there I was worried you actually knew who I was, but it's clear my identity remains secret.” Despite his light tone, his stomach twisted.

“I want to see you bleed and break.” Dick swallowed, even though he had heard it all before. Something about the robotic tone, the faceless hood right next to him, “I want to hear you beg for mercy, promise me all your secrets. I want to remake you.”

Usually, Dick had to really rile people up to get passion like this.

But as fun as this was, he was getting insanity loud and clear. Time to go. He was ready to flip up, and then - 

Hood pulled off his helmet.

Dick was already wary, sure that if Hood was about to expose his secret identity he planned to kill him. But nothing prepared him for the shock of recognition.

“J-  _ Jason.”  _ Dick froze. Ice filled his veins, pushed away by rage. “I don’t know who you are or why you look like this, but you will pay.” Dick didn’t even recognize his own voice, and all he wanted to do was find out who  _ dared _ to use the face of his little brother.

“You don’t think it’s really me?” Hearing Jason’s voice sickened Dick, nausea rising up. Someone was  _ polluting _ the memory of his brother and he needed to end this right now. “I’m hurt. But not surprised. Bruce was the same.”

But Bruce didn’t know about the Red Hood, that’s why Dick was poking around and - surely if someone was  _ wearing Jason’s face _ , Bruce would have warned him and - but Dick didn’t tell him what he was doing, maybe he was keeping it to himself to not make Dick come running and end up, well, like this, so - 

“I thought by now he’d have finished all his testing. I gave him all the samples he wanted.”

Dick’s brain was malfunctioning. He must have hit his head harder than he’d thought. He’d never felt so unable to act, stuck in reaction, waiting with horror to see where this was going. Wait, were Jason’s eyes  _ green _ ? It can’t be Jason, Jason’s eyes were blue. None of this made sense.

He forced out a question, “When? When did you see Bruce?”

\---

Jason was enjoying this, like he’d enjoyed almost everything since he came back to Gotham. Having a chance to  _ finally _ clean up Crime Alley, in a way that mattered, putting  _ real _ fear into the assholes who hurt women and children, he knew that was going to feel good. But this, seeing the Golden Boy, stuck in chains, confused and helpless, Jason  _ loved _ this, and barely noticed the green that slithered and twisted and hissed.

Bruce had been angry, afraid, resentful. But took all the samples Jason offered, and then disappeared. Jason knew he was running tests even now.

He never did trust Jason, hissed a voice in his mind. A distant part of Jason knew it wasn’t him, knew it was the Pit, but he  _ was _ the Pit now, the only time he felt good was when the Pit guided him.

Dick was asking a question, nut Jason didn’t hear it. He pulled out a knife, and the green whispered sibilantly in his mind.  _ Do it _ . As though he was watching another person do it, Jason lifted the knife and slashed it across Dick’s face.

Red.

Dripping.

Copper.

A cool rush of green, pouring over his mind, calming him in ways he didn’t even know he’d needed, soothing the tension of waiting for Dick wake, waiting for the chance to do  _ this. _

He reached out again, lower this time. Dick was shouting something, twisting his chains, but all Jason could hear was the Pit. 

Then - “Little wing”

\---

Dick watched as Jason’s eyes turned a more vivid green. Flickering, almost. Part of the magic that let someone wear Jason’s face? A voice in his mind whispered  _ Lazarus _ and Dick couldn’t breathe.

And then he realized Jason wasn’t answering him, wasn’t talking, had this blank, terrifying expression and then - 

A streak of fire on his face. Jason had - Jason had  _ cut _ him and Dick cried out in surprise and leaned back. He tried to remind himself it wasn’t Jason, someone was wearing his face, he needed to stay calm and get free,  _ it wasn’t really Jason _ , but his head was throbbing, his  _ little brother _ had strung him up in chains and cut him and - 

Jason reached out again with his knife, slower this time, Dick felt like he was underwater, and a choked off cry slipped out - “Little wing”

Jason froze, and suddenly his eyes weren’t green, and Dick was shocked by the change, by his pain, by his  _ little brother _ , and then Jason was - gone.

Dick flipped his legs up, shaking, grabbed a pick from inside his boot, and picked the locks and fled. Back out of the warehouse, back to his bike, back to Bludhaven. He didn’t know what had happened, didn’t  _ want _ to know.

But the next night, he was logging in the Bat Computer, hacking into Bruce’s closed files, and that’s where Bruce found him. Bruised wrists, bandaged cheek, haunted eyes, staring at the screen flashing “DNA result confirmed: Jason Todd”.


End file.
